#Saturdays suck. & there was a weird gap in the schedule | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

livseses · 3 months

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Fuck, shit, as well as damn it ("blast it all to the lower depths" as Ny would say). Idk if we posted this nonsense already. But fuck it. Gonna post it anyways.

Lol

Lmao

Fucking ha even

So we got

DID

(Pt: So we got DID)

We found out from our therapist the other day that she had updated our diagnosis. She went on leave for a few months, and we had a wonderful substitute therapist who had experience treating DID. After she had gotten back she consulted with said substitute and they both agreed that our symptoms matched up more with DID than OSDD-1.

We were fine with this, and she explicitly said that it was due to the memory issues. When we walked through the DES and diagnostic criteria, we didn't think our memory was "beyond normal forgetting". 8-9 months later, and a fresh set of eyes on us, and she got enough of a picture to check that box.

The only real complaint is that we don't know when we would have found this out, because it had come up from an unrelated conversation. But we've come to trust her well enough to believe that it was a simple mistake and not something more abusive of her authority.

But it's left us in a funny place. We've always thought our memory was shit, but not that shit. ADHD working memory out the door, and SDAM tossing the video feeds into the garbage. Nothing dissociative for the most part. Just weird brain quirks with memory.

But after getting hit with this, it's been, like I said, kinda funny feeling. Hell, read the first paragraph. We had agreed yesterday to pick my girlfriend up from work today, and didn't remember that until after the missed calls. That kinda shook us.

We've had missing days a plenty. Times where we were jazzed by the realization that Friday was one (1) day closer than we thought. Times where we were the opposite of jazzed because we missed a class (or a fucking final exam) because we thought we had another day left in the week.

We don't remember more than a handful of experiences from before college, and they dwindle the further back we go. But we know the facts. This kid with our deadname did/said/experienced X, Y, or Z. That kind of stuff. That's always been our memory. That's always been "normal forgetting".

Appointments, obligations, scheduled tasks. They all get missed until we can't do anything about them. We rely on routine. Therapy a 4 pm on Tuesdays. Oh it's at 3? Or on Monday? Guess we're not going. Need to call the doctor during business hours. But it's the weekend so we can't. Oh now it's the evening so we can't. Whoopsie, it's Saturday again and we need to call the doctor during business hours. Oh and file those papers before the kidos arrive at preschool. Gotta remember to file those papers. But it's time to prep for class and all the prep is done so we're incredibly bored and twiddling our thumbs. Kiddos are here but FUCK forgot to file the papers. Maybe after class? Oh yeah, all the tables are clean and nothing else to do but head home so that we can scream and panic because we need to file those papers in the morning before the kiddos get to class.

I don't recall telling this story before. Wait no, the bored look in your eyes reminds me that I saw that look last time I told you this story again.

It's strange and surreal right now to hammer home that yeah, this isn't "normal forgetting". Fuck I remember thinking that maybe the ADHD memory poo would count enough for criterion B. How much does our memory suck and we've just compensated hard? How much do we forget that we forget?

There's something important I need to stress btw. All of this ramble, all of these memory issues, all of this forgetting and amnesia? All of it is irrespective of switches and headmates (save maybe the lost days). DID and plural memory issues almost always treat forgetting as something done between members. It's so frequently held that the memory is held by someone else.

While that's true in many cases, it's absolutely not universal. Our Dx comes from our recurrent gaps in our recall that's not consistent with ordinary forgetting. Not an inability to recall the memories of other headmates. Hell our most recent experience with that was when Ny agreed to pick up my gf, and she forgot; we all forgot.

Maybe that's a nitpick. Maybe I'm being particular. Maybe I'm annoyed. I don't know that our treatment would be any different if we kept OSDD-1 under the notion that DID required intra-idenity amnesia.

But yeah memory is fuck. Ramble is done. I hope this isn't something we posted yesterday or something. But if it is, that's pretty fucking funny to us.

-Faye

#faye post #actually plural #system stuff #did #osdd

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zaymadden-author · 4 years

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Written by ZAY MADDEN

“Man, this is not how Saturday nights are supposed to go.” With all the shit going on in the world, I’ve been house-bound for a minute, and at this point I’m all TikTok’d out. A couple of my boys and my cousin Terrell pulled up on me around 8 for a couple rounds of 2K 🎮, but you know how Mississippi weather is. Mother Nature randomly decided to do her dirty work and had them staying later than planned, but once the sky stopped roaring, I sent my boys home. It was time for a night cap.

I trailed them outside to make sure they were all gone, and once the last car looped around my driveway, I could finally sit on my porch and think. I had my D’USSÈ 🥃 in one hand and my phone in another, scrolling through my thread of texts to see which girl I could get to bless my night; it was part of my weekend ritual. I had a rule though: never start at the top because most recent pussy tends to be not as interesting unless she really got that 🍑💦 if you know what I’m saying.

So, last I checked, Keisha wit the plump ass moved to Florida, which is unfortunate for me. She had one hell of a mouth piece in bed but never ran her mouth in the streets. I could respect that and that’s why I keep her on standby.

The next on my list, Monica, was on the classy end of the spectrum, but it was like rolling dice with her ass. Most of the time she waits until 7 am to reply. Her brain was still accustomed to her school schedule and she had a day job too, so I respected that. However, it sucked for me though cuz Monica was bad af from head to toe and really would’ve gave me a night to remember. Shit, I still reminisce about our last rendezvous. She had pretty feet and plump lips that felt like pillows with each kiss. And I know it’s weird, but I think it’s a turn on whenever I see her with those scrubs on. It’s just something about a hard-working black woman. (Damn smh.) I decided not even bother her this late.

So I kept scrolling up right, slowly feeling my luck build up, when my phone all of a sudden ding’d. My heart started thumping against my rib cage, and the corners of my mouth shot up. I couldn’t wait to see who this could be.

(I turn my notification banners off for good reason.)

Could it be Ashley? (The one that stayed wayyy out in Clinton). She usually texts when she wants some dick but it takes her forever to get to my place in Madison.

I put my search on pause and immediately made my way to the top to see who it could be. And would you believe it? “She always does this shit bruh. Like fr!”

Lo and fucking behold:

[MOM: Can you take your grandma to the store in the morning? I forgot to tell you earlier. Phone died.]

MAN 😤!! I almost summoned the spirit of Brady and launched $999 worth of iPhone in the damn pond. It’s 12:02 at night. She could’ve just waited until daylight resumed before bothering me with this!

I know that’s my heart and soul, but grandma is not the type of woman I want on my mind right now. But I replied “ok” to avoid any further communication at this hour.

I kept scrolling through my digital black book and I contemplated, but immediately dismissed, the idea of calling Alisha over. She said I be hurting her so she only wanna do oral. “Naw. I’ll pass. I’m good on that tonight.” Nobody else seemed worthy of hitting up at the time, at least this time of night, so I head inside. I locked the door behind me and made my way to the bathroom to get ready for bed. After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I spritzed a little water on my head and brushed my waves into submission before securing it with my DuRag. Staring at this thick-browed, handsome, brown skinned fellow in the mirror, I began to question whether I still had it. “I am only 23 so that’s nowhere near the ‘falling off’ age,” I say to myself. I guess with me working day and night, I didn’t have time to pull ‘em like I used to.

So, I went and plopped on my bed, face towards the ceiling, contemplating my future, when I heard the sound of rocks sloshing under tires. The sound slowly magnified, and to myself I’m thinking that maybe one of my homeboys forgot something in my house. A barcode-like shadow cast on my wall as the luminance of headlights beamed through my blinds. I almost walked to the door empty handed, but the detective Stabler in me wasn’t taking any chances. So, I grabbed my piece in my night stand and asserted my second amendment rights. Tip-toe after tip-toe I was almost to the door when I heard the engine stop. A few seconds later there was this rhythmic chiming noise echoing through the walls. I crept to the front window stealthily, and peeked out the blinds. I could recognize the vehicle but I had to be sure it was who I thought it was, so I flicked on the second outdoor light.

All I saw was curly tresses flowing through the window of a pink Lexus.

“Aaliyah?” ..... “but how did she?”

With a mixture of anxiety and excitement, I snatched open the front door 🚪 to greet her. And when I saw her strut up the walkway with a touch of flair, a second emotion arose: confusion. How did she know I was alone? How did she know there wasn’t another girl here? It’s been two years and I still can’t figure out how this girl knows me so well and I think that’s why she intrigued me so much. It also scared me a little bit too. I usually don’t let a girl come over unannounced.

She would’ve been the first girl I tried to text, but last I checked she was in New York on business.

I shoot commercials for a living and I did one for her boutique. That’s how we came across each other.

But she’s here now so who cares that she popped up. (Maybe that’s just my dick talking 🤷🏾‍♂️... idk)

She had two Raising Cane’s bags, which I’m guessing that, during this pandemic, was the only thing she could come across at this time a night. Everything else was closed, even Taco Bell.

She let out a soft “Hey” as she bat her lashes and I quickly shut the gap in my mouth.

“What’s up?” I then responded.

And for a moment our eyes did a tango before she broke the silence.

“Can I come in? It’s kinda hot out here. ”

[And she wasn’t lying about that.]

We suddenly smiled at each other (each clipped with a note of sensuality), and with a nonverbal response, I helped her carry the drinks in and held open the door, catching a strange whiff of fried chicken and some floral fragrance as she walked by. I sucked my bottom lip as she sashayed towards my couch; those long legs accented by her gold trimmed pumps.

With a quick, smooth swivel of her body, she had positioned herself towards me, carrying a whole conversation with her eyes.

After locking my door I suddenly needed to adjust my boxer briefs. Gazing at those smooth brown legs made me graduate from flaccid to half chub, but my need to feast was urgent. My stomach was growling like a mf.

So I sit down to eat, right. And we get to chatting about her trip to NY ✈️ and how she’s been so stressed out with trying to open up a store out there. The whole time she’s going on and on about her tired body and her hectic work schedule, I’m reading in between the lines. She didn’t come here looking like that just to talk about work.

Aaliyah has never been one to admit what she wants from me, she just drops hints and expects you to go fishing for answers.

After smashing half my chicken box though, she got up like she had no time to waste. With a flick of her ankles she had both shoes flying across the floor. She took one last glance at me before leading the way to my bedroom, first slipping her skirt off in the living room and her shirt slowly draped from her body as she made her way down the hall. To keep up the tempo, I removed whatever she did, and by the time we made it to my room it was nothing but birthday suits.

I was ready for penetration at the door, but baby girl had other plans. She made me sit on the love seat by my window as she put on a show for me. It was an immediate game of teasing and temptation as she watched me slowly stroke my dick to every scene of her performance. First it was the leg play, then the breast tease, and then my favorite of all... something she knows gets me hard as steel.... the pussy play.

I love it when she bends open her thighs and plays with the most anticipated part of her body. Her smooth, brown sugar skin and nude polished nails drew an excellent contrast to that sweet, bright pink center. And she knew I wanted it too. She also knows how much I brag about how tight she is, so she takes her two fingers and spreads it open in full view for me. It was one thing for me to speculate, but when she slid one finger in and out for me, it was proof enough that her coochie still had that snap-back action.

I couldn’t take it anymore. With my dick now towering from my hand, I made my way over to her. She was now in submission as I asserted myself over her, so I pulled her to the the edge of the bed to get ready for my part. I looked down at myself, the tip of my dick head now glistening with anticipation, and said to her “I want you.”

And in the blink of an eye I was down on my knees and I had her hips cradled in my arms; my tongue digging into the flesh of her thigh, roughly gasping for air as I was too focused to remember breathing. With a slow dance of kissing and tongue-groping, I lead a trail up and down her thighs until I heard her say, “OMG.... Sean!”

I swear I felt a drop of pre-cum stream down to my ankle as I made my way to her hot zone 👅 . Like a rollercoaster, I had my tongue going round and round, remembering all the pressure points that made her thrust her pelvis into my face. I was in full control now, and no matter how hard she gripped the sheets, there was no escaping my vice grip.

My tongue was putting in overtime, and right before my clock struck 1:00 🕐 , I felt her first nut. We both laughed (our goofy asses) to try and cut down on all that sexual tension.

I reared my head to get a good look at her sex face, my goatee now dripping in her juices, and I gave her a look that let her know I was ready for that action. I sprinted like hell to my night stand to grab me a “rain coat,” acting as if my dinner was about to get cold or something.

I slid that mf on so quick. I’d been waiting for this all night. Pussy in my mouth was one thing, but BEING in it... whew 😌.

I looked at her again before I engaged in our post-foreplay session. I already had my 🍆💦 on the edge ready for the deep dive. We shared a gaze as I slowly began to make my way inside. She had that “keep going” look on her face, but it was only so long that she could keep her composure. After the head made its way in, baby girl’s eyes began to sync with my slow strokes. They rolled as my hips began to roll, and before she knew it, her neck gave out and she rested her head. I finessed my hips into a slow roll as I reached down and sucked on her neck. Her walls began to relax as her pussy gradually began to invite me in. I kept piping her down, constantly going deeper until her belly felt full. And by then, I knew I had her.

I secured her backside with my arms, careful not to smother her precious body, as she demanded I up the pace. To keep up the demand, I got more comfortable on the bed before I shifted into overdrive. “Nice Sean” was gone and “ZADDY Sean” was on the scene.

I was working that pussy like I was running track, and before long, she had thought twice about what she asked for. She thought she was slick, inching her body away like I didn’t notice. But guess what, I inched right along with her ass. She had a long ways to go on my California King before she could escape this dick.

At this point, her facial expressions were no longer inaudible. She was squeezing out “oooo’s” and “ahhhhh’s” between every attempt to catch her breath.

“Wait baby... ooooooooo wait.” She pleaded, but mercy was no longer on the table. I kept going until her juices soaked my inner thigh.

“OMG Sean!” She utters the mantra again. But this time I give in to her cries. Hell, I needed to catch my breath too. Shit! 🥵

I rolled over for a brief intermission, slowly creeping my way to the top of the bed near my pillow. She followed. We rested for a good little minute, kissing on each other as the clock kept ticking, but I was mentally preparing for the second round. It was late at night so I had only about two good positions left in me.

She took a bathroom break before we resumed.

I had decided it was her turn, so I stayed where I was and used my finger to signal her to come near when she walked back in the room. So, she took a domineering stance right before she climbed into bed and cat walked towards me. Titties just bouncing everywhere. Curls flowing effortlessly in the breeze of my ceiling fan. She knew what she was doing and she got my lil man right back up. ☝🏾

She leaned towards me for a kiss as she saddled my waist, slow grinding to drum up more anticipation. I slapped my meat against her ass cuz I wanted her to stop playing these games. Hell, my dick was damn near shivering in the wind now.

But she took the hint and began to guide it back in. This time I rolled MY eyes as her warm goodies began to cradle me inside. She placed her hands on my chest and made her first move upward, then she put her hips in reverse. She put this same two-step on repeat, bouncing up and down on my shit, going all the way to the base. I’m talking balls deep. With this kinda grip, my dick was on the verge of spittin’ already, but I held back my nut. “This ain’t how I wanna to go out”

I was diggin’ this lil rodeo vibe she had going on, but the more her pussy lips clapped down on me, the more I started edging. I let her take control for a minute, but that minute quickly turned into a second as her hip grinding began to slow down. The batteries in that energizer bunny were at 20%... but thats what Zaddy Sean is here for. 😏

Right as she was on her way up, I stopped her and I kept her right in that position, pounding that 🎂 until all I heard was Mac n cheese stirring.

But shit, at this point it was time to make that Mac n cheese creamy. I got prepared for the finale as we moved into sex position #95.

I had her face on the pillow and I made her spread them cheeks before I dove in back. And for some reason, this position always gets me. Idk if it’s the fluffiness of the ass that gets my rocks off or the fact that the thigh clenching makes everything feel tighter. Who knows. But I didn’t have time to contemplate that.

With a few more strokes I was about to fuckin explode. I grabbed her extra tight, squeezing them titties and pushing extra deep until her moans went from tenor to soprano.

“Only a few more seconds baby,” I said in my head.. “just a few more seconds.”

I put a flex in my hips when I felt that good moment coming, and on my last stroke of edging, when I hit her spot, she squeezed her cheeks extra tight... and that was the extra umph that I needed to let loose.

I wanted to paint her back 💦 but the hooded Kermit in me said “naw, leave that shit in big dawg.” 😏

So, I hit my last pumps like a New Years countdown. 5... 4... 3.... 2... making sure my last hit was the strongest. I held it there as my body spasmed and my perineum pulsated, leaving me temporarily paralytic.

Cuz that’s what good pussy will do to ya.

I took a second to savor the moment because my horny-ness hadn’t completely subsided yet. By the time I was ready to pull out, my jimmy was slowly becoming soft & squishy again.

With the head still sensitive, I slowly abort, careful to keep the condom in tact. She’s about as sleepy as I am now, and as I withdrew, she stole a peek of me staring at all the nut weighing down the tip of my condom.

It was mutually understood that we were both tapping out, but we mustered up enough energy to quickly shower up. The whole time in the shower I’m still mesmerized by her beauty, all horny-ness aside.

We towel off in about ten minutes and return to the room before I quickly throw some fresh sheets on my bed.

She basically invited herself to spend the night and who was I to say “no” to her. Cute ass. She knew she was my Achilles heel. So, as we lay in our resting position before dozing off, the question circled back around in my head...

How the hell did she know I was alone? 🤔

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vndooms · 6 years

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@dearevanhansensecretsanta for @mostamazingtrees !!! you asked for a cute au and i... i ran with it. i ran all the way out of town.

DINER/COLLEGE AU: Alana is in her sophomore year of college, while Zoe is taking a gap year. Alana meets Zoe at her job as a waitress at an old run down diner, and is immediately taken with her (little does she know Zoe is just as taken with her), and begins to frequent the establishment often for study sessions under the guise of loving the shitty diner coffee. (804 not-proofread words under the cut)

“How's my favorite bookworm?” came a familiar song-song voice. Alana looked up from her textbook to the owner and felt her face warm up at the sight of Zoe’s perfect crooked smile. The waitress stood with a coffee pot in one hand and the other on her hip in the perfect ‘casual’ posture. “Finals?”

“World politics,” Alana answered, smiling in return. She’d been worried Zoe wasn’t scheduled that morning, even though she always worked Sunday mornings. Not that Alana had noticed.

“And your studying on a Sunday morning?” Zoe scrunched up her face and Alana laughed.

“I don't want to get stuck cramming the night before,” she shrugged. “And it's actually really interesting, you know, how different political systems work and interact internationally. Way more interesting than the U.S. specific government class I took last semester, but I really liked that class, too.”

“What kind of college student are you?” Zoe gasped in mock horror. Alana grinned as Zoe shook her head and poured some more coffee into the mug by her.

“Thank you,” Alana said before taking a sip. She went back to her reading, expecting the waitress to head on her way to the back, but she didn't. Alana gave her a sideways glance, she had a nervous sort of energy, Alana noticed, despite the cool, collected posture.

“You come here a lot, you know,” Zoe said and Alana really felt her face grow warm then. “The coffee kind of sucks here, so that's weird.”

“I like the coffee,” Alana lied, and Zoe laughed, shaking her head so intensely that her braid bounced over her shoulder, down her back.

“There's no way,” Zoe said, crossing her arms. “I make the coffee and- well- my family has a ban on me making coffee in the house. I'm awful, that cup right there-” Zoe pointed at Alana’s cup, “forty percent grounds, at least.”

Alana looked at her coffee and couldn't help but pull a face, especially since Zoe was right. She’d probably ate more coffee grounds than drank coffee at that diner. “Okay, valid,” Alana said. “Maybe I just like the atmosphere.”

“Maybe,” Zoe said, pushing her braid back over her shoulder, looking away. Her face was pink. “If you like loud truckers every morning and annoying families every afternoon.”

“You love the families,” Alana said. “You always give the kids free dessert.” Zoe looked at Alana, surprised.

“You noticed that?” she asked. Alana nodded seriously.

“Yeah, I mean, I think it's really cool. I love kids, I'm an only child but I always wished I had a younger sibling, you know? And I used to volunteer at a children's hospital over winter break back in high school, and I loved working with those kids! Especially the little things you can do for them that can just… Make their day, reading a book to them, bringing them a toy car, complimenting their drawings,” Alana said. “Giving them a free dessert.”

“Do you want to go on a date?” Zoe said, rushed. Sudden. Alana froze, mouth dropping open. “I mean-” Zoe said, her face now very, very pink. “Yeah, yeah. I mean that. Do you want to go on a date with me.” Her face was serious.

“Yes,” Alana said. “Absolutely, yes. When? Here- wait,” Alana scribbled down her phone number on a napkin. “That’s my phone number, yes I want to go on a date with you. Whenever, except I have this final on Wednesday and then two more on Thursday, but after that, it's just one more on Friday evening, although I guess that’s, like, prime date time, but we can always do Saturday night? I think that's like… a date time.” She was definitely rambling senselessly now, and Zoe had an incredulous look on her face and then suddenly burst out laughing.

“Your final isn't until Wednesday and you're here on a Sunday morning studying for it?”

Alana frowned. “I'm here to see you,” she said, and Zoe stopped laughing but she was smiling still, a little shy. “Well, and the material is interesting, I wasn't lying about that!” And Zoe laughed again, taking the napkin with Alana’s number on it and smiling down at the ten digits. The chime announcing a new customer entering the diner rang, Zoe looked over and waved.

“Be right with you,” she said. She looked back at Alana. “I’ll text you then? And we can figure out a good time next week?”

“Yeah,” Alana said.

“See ya, bookworm,” Zoe said, waving as she rushed over to seat the new customers. Alana couldn't help but grin for the rest of her study session and vowed to finally find a new place to study as Zoe’s constant refilling of her coffee mug ended up being a pretty dire distraction. Alana couldn't complain, though.

#zoe murphy #alana beck #galaxy gals #deh #dear evan hansen #my art #SORRY THIS IS LIKE within the last hours of the deadline #but happy new year i hope you like it!

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5hfanfiction · 6 years

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Baby Jauregui - Chapter 16

Your POV

I am swamped this year. I have so much stuff to do, I can’t even fathom the amount of work I have that has to get done.

Between just plain school, helping One Direction write songs, swimming, studying for the SATs and looking at colleges, if I have a free weekend, I’m gonna spend it having fun.

I do feel kind of bad that I haven’t spent time with Mom, but my other things were more important.

I know, I know, I sound like a total dick, but my life was starting to happen, and I needed to learn to live on my own.

Obviously, she’s my mom, so there are things I can’t do without her, but learning to balance everything, she can’t really help me with it.

I was going to spend time with her, it was impossible for me not to. I just spent a whole year with her on tour, seeing her for hours every day, and it’s only been 2 months since school has started and she’s getting all pissy because I’m not seeing her all the time.

I had stuff to do, and it just so happened that when I didn’t she did. I definitely missed spending time with her, even as simple as eating dinner for more than just 20 minutes. It’s just really difficult because as much as I miss her, I see her as much as I see Lil. I miss them both, but I live with my mom.

Next year I’m not going to see Lily.

Neither of us want to admit it, but I have to go back on tour with my mom next year. I guess I could live with Auntie Taylor or Uncle Chris, but they have their own lives with their husband and wife. Also, they live across the country, I would rather go on tour than change high schools my senior year.

I don’t know what’s going to happen with Lily and me, but I really hope she takes a gap year, or my mom doesn’t go on tour, or for something to happen so we can stay together.

I was currently sitting in my room attempting to write songs. It was Saturday at noon, and I was really struggling. I had been so creative, and written so many songs lately that all of my melodies and ideas were mushing together.

I needed a break.

Thanksgiving was in a couple weeks, but I’ve been doing so much work during the week, on Friday nights I’ve been partying, as well as Saturday. And Sunday morning I do homework and by 3 or so, until 9 I’m in the studio with One Direction.

As tired as I am, and as worn out and as much as I’m complaining I’m so grateful for the position I’m in.

As much as I love school and learning, songwriting has quickly sky rocketed to my number one priority. I don’t know if I want to go to college.

I can’t exactly tell my mom that, but she didn’t go to college because she wanted to pursue her dream. I’m really hoping Louis will sign me to his label as a song writer. The boys have been signed to the label he created for a while now.

I don’t want to just work with them, I have written so many songs that wouldn’t fit with the boys’ sound. I’m ambitious, but I have to be if I want to write songs.

Mom has spent a lot of time with Luke lately.

I get it, she’s falling in love or whatever, but it makes me feel like she kind of forgot about me. I know she didn’t, but every time that I want to have a conversation with her, or the conversations we’ve had at dinner have involved Luke in some way.

I really hope I wasn’t that bad when Lily and I first started going out, but I think it’s different.

She’s my mom, I’m not supposed to see her falling in love like this.

I just need to get out of this house. Go somewhere, workout, anything.

To: My Love: Do you wanna do something?

From: My Love: I’m sorry baby, I’m at lunch with Tia :( I love you though.

To: TJ: Are you in the states?

From: TJ: Sorry, no. I left this morning at about 5 am.

To: Isaac Tomlinson: What are you doing today pal??

From: Isaac Tomlinson: My dads dragged me and my sister to some far away place in Northern Cal… get me out…

To: Lisa Welch: Hey! Long time no see! We should catch up.

From: Lisa Welch: Yeah, definitely. I’m completely booked this week, but maybe lunch next week?

To: Lisa Welch: Sounds good, talk to you later this week!

Those were my only friends that I knew weren’t busy today, and now I’ve confirmed they are.

Oh! I’ll text Auntie Camz, see if she’s doing anything.

To: My Beautiful Godmother: Wanna go to lunch?

From: My Beautiful Godmother: Sure! We have somethings to talk about…I’ll be there in 45 minutes.

I had no idea what she was talking about, but I wasn’t nervous.

I hop in the shower, thoroughly shampooing and conditioning my hair. I hop out, brushing my hair and teeth. I just put on a pair of ripped black skinny jeans, and a plain white t-shirt with a wide collar and short sleeves. I apply light make up because I looked beat today.

I throw a pair of Ray Bands on the top of my head, grab my phone, and head downstairs. Mom was with Luke or something, so I didn’t worry about having to confront her when I got downstairs.

To: Mom: I’m going to lunch with Auntie Camz

I wasn’t surprised that she didn’t reply, as I plop down on the couch. I wasn’t going to wait around for her to respond.

My mom and I need to suck it up and just talk. If she wasn’t always with Luke maybe I could do that.

From: Auntie Camz: I’m outside

I head out of the house, locking the door behind me, and jogging to the car. “Hey.” I smile, dropping into the seat, my godmother pulling me in for a side hug.

“Do you want to go to 97?” She asks as I buckle, Camila driving down the road. 97 was a restaurant that has been open since 1997, hence the name, and Camila and I always go to brunch there. I’ve never had lunch but I’m assuming it’s good.

“Yeah, sounds good.” I nod, Camila turning up the radio.

The car ride was just us listening to music, not really talking. I think she had a lot to say, but wanted to save it for the restaurant.

Camila sighs once we get to the table. “What’s going on Y/n?” She asks, adjusting in her seat a bit. “Your mom feels like she’s losing you."

I scoff. "She feels like she’s losing me? She’s never home to spend time with me, and get’s mad when I do things I’ve always done.”

“She’s just upset because of all the time you’ve been spending doing other things.” I know Camila had really only heard my mom’s side, but it’s not fair that she’s already agreeing with her before I’ve even told her how I see the situation.

“Ok, let’s think about what I can cut out of my schedule to spend more time with her.” I nod, Camila rolling her eyes.

“Sweetheart, that’s not-”

“How about I don’t do homework.” I ask, Camila shaking her head. “Okay, then swimming? Or sleeping? Or working? Or spending time with my girlfriend the one hour a week I get with her?”

“Y/n, that’s not what I’m saying.” Camila looked like she was getting frustrated. “My point is that when you are having dinner together, take the time and eat with her. Tell her about your day. Talk to her.”

“Maybe I would if she wasn’t always with Luke…” I mumble, pretending to read my menu.

“JJ, listen to me, babe.” Camila reaches across the table, grabbing my hand. “She’s with Luke because she feels like you don’t want her to be home.”

I actually don’t have a response for that one. Why wouldn’t I want her to be home? “Where did she get that idea?” I mumble, Camila shrugging.

“She claims that when you’re home you barely talk to her, about anything."

"I don’t have the time. I have hours and hours of homework. And when I’m home on the weekends she never wants to spend time with me. I apologize if I didn’t exactly jump at the opportunity to follow her out the door when she leaves.” I practically whisper, playing with the straw in my water glass.

“We can change the subject now.”

Lunch with Camila was nice. She was telling me all about Shawn’s new album, as well as her new album, because we all know Mom wasn’t telling me about it.

I texted Lily after lunch, and she was going to come over and spend the night.

I need to talk to Mom. She texted me telling me she wasn’t going to be home until tomorrow morning. So I guess I wasn’t talking to her anytime soon.

Lily and the captains are holding a mandatory team bonding day tomorrow, so I’ve already called Liam and told him that I can’t come to the studio tomorrow. We’ll all be over at Kendra’s. She lives in the same neighborhood as us, but she’s one of 8 kids, so her house can hold the whole team.

So I probably won’t see Mom until Sunday night, when I’ll be too tired to actually seriously talk it out with her.

“Baby, you’re kissing me weirdly…” Lily groans, resting her hands on my cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Lil. It’s just this thing with my mom is really bugging me.” I mumble, playing with the hem of her t-shirt.

“You were thinking about your mom while we were making out?” Lily asks, resting her head on my chest, laying down and stretching out.

“I don’t know what to do. She’s spending so much time alone with Luke I feel like she doesn’t even care anymore.” I whisper, rubbing my nails lightly along Lily’s arm.

“Sweetheart, you know that’s not true. She loves you. Just talk to her, you guys are Lauren and Y/n. Easily the two closest people in the world.” Lily’s reassuring words don’t help the butterflies in my stomach.

“I’ll figure it out.” I mumble, cuddling into Lily.

“Mom, can I talk to you?” I ask, sitting down next to her on the couch, playing with my fingers, not making eye contact.

“I think we could use it.” She agrees. “I want to apologize for not being the adult in the situation and taking control of this. But what happened, mija?"

"That’s a loaded question.” I mumble almost immediately. It’s true. I had no idea where to start. I don’t even know how Mom and I started being weird and stuff. “I don’t know. I’ve just been busy I guess, but I don’t want you to think that means I don’t have time for you."

"Mija look at me.” Mom says, putting her finger under my chin. I make eye contact with her, feeling really, really guilty. “I did feel like that. But it’s not your fault. It’s my own. I know you’re very very overwhelmed and I should be helping you through that, not making everything harder for you.”

“I felt kinda like I wasn’t as important to you because of all the time you’ve been spending with Luke.” Mom’s eyes fill with tears.

“Mija, no, no, no.” Mom whispers, grabbing me and holding me to her chest. “You will always be my first priority, and nobody will ever come in-between that. I love you because you are my only daughter and my favorite person on this planet.”

“I know it was stupid for me to think that.” I whisper. “But I don’t want you to be mad, I just have homework to do, I’m not purposely ignoring you."

"I’m really sorry, Y/n. I’m the adult, I should be able to understand that."

"Can we promise to never to do that again? I don’t like us being weird.” I say, sitting up, fixing my hair.

“Yes. Of course. I hated it to.” She nods. “So, tell me everything I missed.”

Mom and I sat there for hours just talking about everything we haven’t told each other since the weird period. I didn’t do nay homework that night, but I wasn’t feeling too well so I think I was going to ask Mom if I could stay home.

I think I was just over tired, and probably dehydrated.

I try to drink as much water as possible, but I have a really small bladder so it’s hard for me to drink a lot during school because I can’t go to the bathroom every class.

I’m definitely going to stay home tomorrow. I deserve it.

A/n: Sorry for mistakes, I would love feedback, thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed.

#UPDATE #series #/you #family #submission #Baby Jauregui

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theheartofmed · 6 years

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So...I am definitely a disgruntled scribe.

I went in expecting minimum wage and weird shifts, but it’s just too much.

I love the job, I love the doctors, I hate my company. It’s just awful having to constantly switch between day and night shifts all the time. I worked two overnights in a row, one day off, and day shift tomorrow. Next month I have 7 overnights in a row, and then a dayshift after one of them? It’s just driving me nuts between that and then I seem to always be constantly working Friday/Saturday/Sunday. People are constantly begging to swap shifts because the people who make the schedule suck. Maybe I’m just complaining too much- but I wanted to somewhat enjoy my gap year and I can’t with this schedule.

I had 3 job interviews today.

One was a PT tech which I will likely decline, one was a “health coach” at a primary care office...this is the one I’m leaning towards most. It’s a blend of front/back office work, but I also get some autonomy in educated patients and helping them manage chronic disease. It sounds perfect, is 3 miles away, pays literally DOUBLE my current wage, and is M-F 9am-5pm type job. I interviewed for another scribe job in an ortho office...I actually fell in love with it. It’s an office and not a hospital so it’s also M-F, pays ~slightly above minimum wage. Everyone in the office was just so amazing and I’d love to experience ortho...It would be a hard one to turn down because of how impressed I was with everyone.

Anywho, hopefully I find out soon! I’m dealing with a lot of guilt because the hospital makes the schedule a month at a time, so I’d feel terrible leaving all those shifts to need coverage...but if I get a job 3 miles away, paying me double, and allowing me more hands on care...I can’t say no to that!

#Oy #we shall see

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bugswarm · 7 years

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Every year it gets bad again. It’s always the same time of year or anything like if someone were to have Seasonal Depressive or whatever. I know that because I took a gap year, and the time where it gets cold and wintery was a really nice time.

Yet most years it does come near fall or winter, or sometimes spring. It rarely comes in summer, though it has happened.

This year is earlier than it’s ever been. I’ve alternated between not sleeping, and being unable to wake up for days now. I waited until I hit 24 hours before I ate because I wanted to punish myself for feeling this way today. I wasn’t hungry anyways.

Friday was the last day I felt normal. Some time around 4 or 5 pm my moods shifted though and it went down hill. Saturday I left my room twice, to use the restroom and get food. The rest of the day was spent binging tv and crying.

Sunday wasn’t very different except that around 6pm I texted an acquaintance (one of the few who still talk to me) and I decided I was going to go to their place and drink with them. That way I wasn’t getting drunk alone.

Drunk me had a great time. Sober me regrets the entire night. I only half remember what all I did but the stuff I do remember it’s pretty. I don’t blame any of the people who I messaged that night if they never speak to me again.

Monday was spent in bed nursing the hangover and crying a lot. I didn’t go to bed until 6am.

It is now 4am wednesday, and since friday I have verbally spoken to 5 people. One is the lady who makes the subs at the food place downstairs. One is the acquaintance from sunday. 2 are acquaintances I ran into today and said hello to. The last was my teacher earlier today during class. I don’t really remember speaking to anyone else in person. Maybe I did drunk.... idk.

I’ve texted people sure, but when was the last time that *internet hug* really felt anywhere near like a real hug?

Last night it got to the worst it’s been in almost 2 years. The only reason I didn’t self harm last night was that my knives are dull. I almost ended up ordering a new knife off amazon that was “guaranteed” to be razor sharp. I didn’t because money is something I need still.

I tried telling someone about this today. They made it about themselves. Got offended when I said no one cared about me because “obviously” they do... They are my ex who I left because they view me more as a fantasy of “their future wife” than who I am. Also they are living 6 hours away from me. And they cried more often than I do, which is saying something.

I don’t think I have tears left to cry. I’m dehydrated and tired and don’t want to leave bed. I’m out of drinks in my bedroom fridge and restocking requires driving to the store and buying some. Can’t do that at 4am when I can barely see straight.

I know I should see a professional. I’ve tried that. I’ve seen a therapist most of my life. Since 3rd grade actually. But my last one closed her practice because of financial issues/logistical issues and it’s been hard to get a new one. I went to a new place once and filled out the paperwork and everything and set an appointment up. My job randomly scheduled me a weird shift that day and I had to cancel it. Now the place won’t return my calls. I’ve called 6 times to reschedule.

My psychiatrist also closed her practice in my town. She still has one open but only out in a tiny town a half hour away from me. And her only days are when I’m not available. So I have to get a new psychiatrist too. I’ve been looking for a new psychiatrist for over a year now. For some reason my town only has two types of mental health places. Conglomerates who don’t answer phones ever for anything and will only call you back, maybe... some day... hopefully? and private practices that everyone complains about how bad they are. They open their practices when the conglomerates won’t take them because they suck that much or because they want to make more money off the people they see. Because apparently the fact that my brain doesn’t quite do the thing right always, means I don’t need money for anything else.

I don’t know where to turn anymore...

#depression #trigger warning #self harm #delete later #suicidal idealation

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vagabondreverie-blog · 7 years

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Me, again. Week 1 of the rest of my life.

So, it's been a while guys. I think, ironically, and not with much coincidence, the last time I was active was around the start of my previous relationship. Well, that came and went, rather tumultuously and to provide me with new found anxieties. I am now in another relationship. Just a month old. Life is crazy...anyways, I came here to begin documenting this transition of my life. I am now 25 years old. I was going to say "of age" but I decided to not be an asshole. The week before my birthday I totaled my car while intoxicated. I was alone and hit a parked car head on while I was texting some douchebag that destroyed me for a bit. The wounds are still a bit fresh from that one... Anywho, I wrecked THE FUCK out of my car. The airbag deployed. The car did a 180. It wouldn't start and I didn't know why. The emergency lights wouldn't stop flickering. The horn wouldn't shut off. All I remember was trying to catch my breath and then being in an ambulance. I broke my hand and busted my knee up pretty well. I am entirely lucky that was all I received. No one else was involved or hurt, I did not receive a DUI, and I survived with little injury considering how my car faired. I didn't handle it well. The next few days I drank on what I later believe was a concussion. (If you are unaware, this is not a good thing) The accident occurred early Wednesday morning before the Saturday of my birthday. That Saturday I drank the entire day, had a ball, until I didn't. At a certain point of intoxication I have just begun becoming emotional, and hurt more than I should. Since my accident I feel as if my brain's molecular or chemical, I don't really know, structure has been altered. Whenever I go out drinking now I feel like someone being introduced to society for the first time. I'm terrified. Paranoid. I don't trust anyone and am also entirely petrified which then turns into anger. The closest thing I can equate it to is an animal that has been abandoned and became feral, and reacts to fear by lashing out. I am more acutely aware of how humans are and it makes me filled with rage. It sucks. I have been bartending for a few years now. I had made a little headway and a name for myself in the town where I live in the past year or so. It was pretty neat. Getting invited to make cocktails at different events and just making my own cocktails and serving them to people, it was rewarding. I know I sound like a rube right now, but, it was just a fast and exciting progression. I found myself rubbing shoulders with prominent restauranteurs who I in turn befriended. I somehow stumbled into becoming a networking queen. I would periodically laugh out loud at myself at events asking "what the fuck am I doing here?". The crafting and the reactions were what I loved...the...everything else...not so much. Whenever I went back to work bartending after my accident, there had been a month gap since I had been behind a bar. Keep in mind the way I have reacted while being out. So, I was absolutely enthralled to be a part of opening a restaurant, something I had never experienced, nonetheless at a place that is set up for complete success. But, whenever I stepped behind the bar, I felt nothing. I felt no excitement towards making cocktails, no pitter patter of my heart racing thinking of the possibilities and the chaos that comes with working busy nights; I felt empty. Although I would say "I'm so excited" because that's what I wanted to feel...I wasn't. I figured the more I said it, the more it would somehow do something psychologically to where my mind will think I actually am excited and adjust accordingly. The numbness quickly birthed a disgusting offspring of anxiety. A new anxiety I hadn't felt before. A crippling one. I quit bartending 3 weeks into soft openings. It was in a shitty way. And that's the only thing I am remorseful for. However, hear me out... I started working there because I believed the manager that hired me actually was serious and honest whenever he was speaking to me about his vision for the bar. I quickly realized after opening that his vision was to harass me constantly, either by being unnecessarily snarky or making sexual comments/touching me incessantly, and then to ask for my opinion on cocktails/for me to make after dinner drinks for prominent folk that came in, only to take the credit. During Christmas break, one night I took each knife out of my kitchen drawer one by one, testing their sharpness on the top of my forearm. I wanted to kill myself more than ever. And it was spurned from alcohol and guilt. That accident fucked me up. I told this manager about this. Told him that I should only work part time because I can't be around alcohol five nights a week right now, I just can't. I will die. I will kill myself one way or another. Either intentionally or unintentionally via binge drinking. I was crying out for help. But all I got back was "you're too talented, suck it up". I got this from several people. I do not say this as a brag, I say this in an absolutely appalled way. That people will put your "talent" or "potential" above your actual health and life. The next week I was scheduled 5 nights. It was as if everything I said was supposedly erased after the weekend. I just needed a breather? Tuesday I went in. I. Fucking. Hated. It. I was having rolling anxiety attacks. All I wanted to do was start drinking to quell it. I ended up drinking a couple of shots, having one beer after work and going to my significant other. The next day I dreaded going in. I miraculously was relieved to not have to go in because it was going to be a light night reservation wise. I was jubilant. My mood shifted completely whenever I received the message that I didn't have to come in. The following day I began to get ready for work. My hands began trembling so badly I sat down on the toilet looking at them and then looked over at my partner, with my face drained, and said "I can't do this. I can't go in. I can't do this anymore. I'm going to die". I was hurting. I texted my manager an hour before my shift saying a similar thing. Pride is weird. It convinces you that it's better to continue on a path of destruction rather than helping yourself and/or allowing others to help. Yes, I could try to continue on bartending while refraining from drinking, but that is easier said than done. And that isn't just the issue. Being behind a bar creates so much discomfort for me now, serving people alcohol eats away at my insides, for all I can think of is any negativity I am causing to them. They could drive home and hurt themselves/others, they could be abusive whenever they drink, they could be suicidal...any number of things that really are out of my control completely and I should not bother myself with the burden that is not mine. But I couldn't. I couldn't block it out. And that paired with my fragile sense of being being pummeled by unjustified and unwarranted harassment was too much. It wasn't an easy decision. And it will continue to be difficult. Just as self care is for me. This is the first weekend I have gone without drinking in...I can't even remember whenever the last full weekend was. This all being said...I am definitely not saying I am through with drinking or bartending forever, but I am monitoring myself. I even downloaded an app to track my drinking and urges. But, I am going to look forward. This is a good discomfort. And a great challenge I want to succeed at. Living. That's all I want to do. And by that, I mean, being present. I want to discover how to be present. Here we go.

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callmewhisper-blog · 5 years

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13 November, 2018

Today I have almost finished my Contain The Found Object project for art. I had to borrow one of Sir Chewy’s dog bone things for it. It will be placed in a rather weird looking clay orb thing with rocks and twigs and a clay snake on top. The orb is kind of like a big rubber band ball looking thing, pretty much. If I get a picture of it when it is complete, then I will try to add it on here, since my description skills are sort of… lacking.

Derek started talking to me out of nowhere today in class… well technically before class. Just asked what chapter I was on in the homework. That was about it. I told him I was on chapter three, really I’m stuck on chapter one, and that I will be doing homework all week pretty much. He said that was how his week was looking too, and then I joked about running away and finding alcohol with what's his name from Anthropology. I can only ever remember the guy’s nickname…. Flippy.

Anyhow, the 11th was dad’s 43rd birthday, and as always it was also veterans day. The 12th was Jenevive’s birthday. I think she just turned 24… maybe 23? I can’t remember which. In July, I will be turning 22… and I still don’t have a photo ID. Sucks to be me I guess, haha.

Nancy has been having it rough lately, I’m not sure how to help her, but I know she needs it.

As for Alvin and Marsha? I don’t know and I don’t want to know. They can keep their drama away from me and I won’t mind at all.

This week has been nothing but course evaluations so far. It’s annoying. But after those we get to go back to class as usual. I guess it’s not so bad….

I’m really bad at keeping up with this whole journal thing, I’ve noticed the long gaps in between entries and I find it almost laughable, really.

Sam came over on Friday night. We played a bunch of PS4 games, took a walk, grabbed some Chinese food and watched most of Deadpool 2 before we got tired. Saturday afternoon I went home, obviously, and monday I came back here to school after my doctor’s appointment.

That’s honestly about it, really. I haven’t had much else exciting go on lately. I have a surprise for Kane when I see him next. So, I guess I am low-key hoping that we get scheduled together over my thanksgiving break.

I had asked for them to put me on for my whole break, since I really don’t want to deal with grandma. She’s been so mean lately. She has been ripping people apart and screaming at them over nothing, really. Mom, me, etc… There’s no reasoning with her, no calming her down… she’s just been a bitch. She told mom that Alexis’ friend Gena has no friends and is completely ignorant and obnoxious. Mom explained that Gena has autism, like my brother, so she doesn’t have social skills. Grandma’s response was “I don’t know about that.” I had told her the same thing before, and she told me to stop making excuses for other people’s behavior. I wasn’t making an excuse, I was trying to explain why she is the way she is… which isn’t rude or obnoxious, by the way. She just doesn’t get when things are jokes, so she takes everything seriously. Oh, and I should mention my grandma formed this opinion because Gena doesn’t believe in God. SO WHAT!?

She’s just been so nasty with everyone and I really don’t want to deal with all of that. I know me well enough to know that if she starts her shit over thanksgiving dinner, I will open my mouth and things will go terribly wrong. So, my solution to the problem is going to work. My psychiatrist said I should work on not using avoidance strategies, but in this case I think it’s the best way to go.

In lighter news, Alexis is going to the dance with her friend Lance. They both like eachother but neither kid has the guts to ask the other, so I told Alexis that I was confiscating MY Fallout 4 disc until she asked him. She keeps saying I took HER game and complaining, but truth is…. I bought it, it’s mine and the PS4 is mine too! The only game that is hers is the new Spiderman game. That’s it. The other ones are MINE….the console is MINE. Either way, I’m not giving it to her until she asks the kid.

I have dress rehearsal for _____ (our school’s talent competition) on the 28th. The show is the 30th. The first place prize is 200 dollars, and I don’t know if 2nd and 3rd get anything or not. I forget…. I just know that I have 15 days to get the 25 language version of Let It Go memorised perfectly. I keep tripping up towards the end. I will be alright though, I’m sure.

On top of this, we have our chorus concert on December 7th. I’ve got lots of things going on it seems. Finals, chorus concert, a competition….

In other news, I think I have a serious man problem here. I never use to be so guy crazy, but lately it’s just bad. I see them and I’m just like “Whoa….”

Kind of like “DUDE” in my accounting class.

On a much more serious note, recently in Pittsburgh there was a shooting at a synagogue called the Tree of Life Congregation. I think eleven people died, and I am not entirely sure how many were injured. Pastor Man made a beautiful sermon on how hate has no place in our church, and how we must love everyone as god loved everyone, with no exceptions to that rule. He did it in honor of what had happened there, and he put a sign in the garden of the church that said in many languages, “Hate has no place here.”

I worked that sunday, so I didn’t get to attend, however, I did write to the synagogue. I told them about what our pastor had done, I told them about how, despite our difference of religion I still wish for the families of victims and injured to be able to mourn and heal peacefully, and that I hope god may bless them all with some sense of comfort in these times, because Pastor Man was exactly right, hate has no place here. No place anywhere. I never hated Jewish people anyhow, but I still think the message needs to be heard.

If it were a mosque, though, and not a synagogue, would people still react with such kind hearts? I find it sad that I have to even question that… but we live in an age where people will help anyone but a Muslim. Anyone but a middle eastern person. Anyone but a gay person. Anyone but a minority….

“For god so loved the world, he gave his only son.” Reads the bible. It does not say “For god so loved the world, except the..” If you want to pretend you are high and mighty, remember that verse. God so loved the WORLD. The whole fucking world. Jews, Muslims, Gays, Hindus, Crippled kids, the good, the bad, the rich, the poor, the sick, the healthy…. The whole damn world. No exceptions.

We are not God. We do not get to choose what race, religion, sexual orientation or culture is right or wrong, if any! That’s not our place.

People fear what they don’t understand. Fear can lead to hate, and this year has showed that many many times in the last 10 and ½ months. So maybe, just maybe, we should stop being so fucking afraid. Love thy neighbor and all that…. It’s not a hard concept.

#hatehasnoplacehere #randomrant #moving stuff over part 5

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